


Day Will Come

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Falling Skies
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 19:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5176949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben wakes up one morning and is startled to find that Frederick isn't there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day Will Come

Ben wakes up one morning and he’s not sure why he feels so weird.  Then he realizes he’s alone in bed.  He’s gotten so used to sleeping with Frederick that waking up without Frederick’s head on his chest and arms wrapped around him is weird now. 

It’s kind of nice, how weird waking up without Frederick feels.  That Frederick has become such an intricate part of his day that it’s unusual when he’s not there.  Guess that’s what happens after a few years.  They’re reaching some kind of normal.  A good one.

He sits up to find the note that Frederick left for him and is surprised when there isn’t one.  Whenever Frederick has to leave in the night for work, he always leaves him a note. 

There’s a pounding feeling in his chest and he tries to calm himself.  It’s been years since Dad killed all the Espheni, and no one is going to kidnap Frederick.  Besides, Frederick is technically a trained warrior, even if he doesn’t act like it.  But if someone was trying to kidnap him, he’d be able to fight enough to at least wake Ben up. 

So there’s no reason for Ben to feel anxious and jittery as he stands up, wrapping a blanket around himself to stay warm.  But he still does and he kind of hates himself for still feeling this way years after the war is over.

He walks down the hall, trying to focus on all of the logical reasons why Frederick might not have left him a note.  Maybe there was a diplomatic incident at the Volm embassy and he didn’t have time.  Cochise would know. 

But then he turns the corner and sees Frederick in the kitchen wearing an apron.  It takes Ben’s sleepy, anxiety laden brain a minute to process the scene, but he realizes that Frederick is cooking- something Ben is pretty sure he’s never done before. 

Before Ben can decide what to do with this new and startling information, Frederick sees him.  

“Ben!  I did not expect you to awaken so soon,” Frederick says.

“What’s going on?” Ben asks. 

Frederick sighs.  “I was attempting to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”

Ben looks somewhat suspiciously at the tray setting on the far counter.  “I didn’t think you knew how to cook.  Especially not human food.”

“I have been receiving instruction from a local chef,” Frederick says.  “She wished to learn about Volm cuisine and I wished to learn about human food.  It was an equitable exchange.”

Ben smiles a little and raises his eyebrows, even if he’s still not sure how good the food will be.  “I thought the Volm weren’t supposed to share their technology or secrets with humans.”

“Not without the approval of the Volm embassy,” Frederick corrects, turning to something on the stove.  “As the Volm ambassador to Earth, it was easy to obtain permission.”

“My well connected boyfriend,” Ben says fondly. 

“Perhaps it was a slight abuse of my executive powers, but I believe it is worth it,” Frederick says.  “Please, return to our warm bed and I will bring you breakfast soon.”

“Are you sure?” Ben says.  “I can stay and help.”

“I must concentrate, and your presence is always distracting,” Frederick says.  “Plus, it will not be much of a gift if you help.”

“Okay…” Ben says, still slightly concerned about leaving Frederick alone in the kitchen.  “But if you need anything, yell, okay?”

“I will.  Now, relax,” Frederick says.

Smiling to himself, Ben walks down the hall and back to their bedroom.  He snuggles up in bed, grabbing the manuscript on his nightstand- the book his dad has been writing and has asked his input on. 

While he works, he keeps an ear out, just in case there’s a mishap in the kitchen.  All that happens is ten minutes later he hears Frederick walking down the hall. 

Ben looks up to see Frederick entering the room, still wearing the apron, but now carrying a tray laden with food.

“I instructed you to relax, not work,” Frederick gently admonishes.

“Hey!  It’s just my dad’s book,” Ben says as he sets it aside.  “It’s not like I’m doing my own work.”

“I still believe you work too much,” Frederick says, setting the tray in his lap. 

“Says the Volm who pretty much singlehandedly keeps diplomatic relations open between Earth and the Volm,” Ben says, grinning at him. 

Frederick brushes his bangs out of his face.  “This is a familiar argument, and while I enjoy having it, food is best when warm.  Except for ice cream.”

He turns to walk away, but Ben reaches out to grab his arm.  “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I must clean up,” Frederick says. 

“Having breakfast in bed is no fun when you’re alone!” Ben protests.  “You’ve gotta stay, and then I can help you clean up.”

“I will stay, but you cannot help me clean up,” Frederick says, coming to sit on his side of the bed.  He scoots close to Ben and wraps an arm protectively around him.  “This is a present for you.”

“You’re impossible, in the good way,” Ben says, leaning against him.

“Now, eat,” Frederick says. 

Ben grabs the knife and fork and hesitantly slices into the huge stack of pancakes.  He puts the food in his mouth gingerly- if it’s terrible, he doesn’t want to offend Frederick.

“It’s good!” Ben exclaims.  “Oh my god!”

“You sound surprised,” Frederick says.

“Okay, I love you, but your people are not great cooks.  I’ve had your species’ food before.  It was… interesting, but not great,” Ben says, looking over at him.  “I mean, either way!  I would have been really appreciative that you went to all this trouble for me.  But these are some of the best pancakes I’ve ever had.”

“I know we do not have food that is appealing to a human palate,” Frederick says.  “That is why I asked one of your chefs for help.  Cooking is simple science.”

“Sorry for doubting you,” Ben apologizes before returning to eating breakfast. 

“Do not be,” Frederick says, nuzzling his cheek.  “I am told that the first few meals I attempted to cook were inedible.” 

“Who did you use as your test subjects?” Ben asks, mouth full of pancake.

“Your brothers,” Frederick says.  “They were quite insistent that I ensure my cooking skills were sufficient before I attempt to surprise you with any kind of human food.”

“Now you’ve trapped yourself, though,” Ben says, cramming toast in his mouth.  “Because now I’m definitely going to make you cook for me more often.  All the time.  I can’t cook this well.”

“I enjoy the process, so I look forward to it,” Frederick says. 

“Wait, I’ve been so rude- do you want some?” Ben asks. 

“This food is for you,” Frederick says. 

“Yeah, but I don’t mind sharing with you,” Ben says, waving a piece of toast in his face.

“If you insist,” Frederick says.  “I will have a little bit.”

 He leans forward a little bit and bites into the toast.  Ben enjoys watching him nibble on the toast, and he likes it more when his fingers brush over Frederick’s lips. 

“I love you,” Ben says, caressing his face.

“I love you as well,” Frederick says.  “You are very important to me.  I still cannot believe this has happened.”

“Me neither,” Ben says, turning to the stack of French toast. 

* * *

 

“I am glad you enjoyed your food,” Frederick says once Ben has finished eating.  “Now I will go clean up.”

“No!” Ben protests. 

He sets the tray on the ground and sprawls across the bed (and his boyfriend).  Frederick could throw him off if he really wanted, but Ben knows he won’t.  He never does. 

“A really important part of breakfast in bed is cuddling afterwards,” Ben says.  “Or, I’d guess.  I’ve only gotten breakfast in bed when I was super sick.  Not like this.”

“If we spend much time cuddling, then I will not be able to clean up and be on time for my first meeting,” Frederick says, running his fingers down Ben’s spine carefully.  “I cannot make President Peralta wait.”

“I’d rather cuddle with you and have to clean up later than have you go clean up and not get to cuddle,” Ben says.  “I feel so full, Frederick.  That was such a good breakfast.”

 “If you are certain…” Frederick says.  “I feel bad about leaving dishes for you to clean.”

“It’s worth it,” Ben assures him.

He wraps his arms and legs around Frederick as best he can, pressing his face against Frederick’s neck.  This is the opposite of how they usually lay together, but Ben feels big and bloated and he just wants to lay here with Frederick forever.  Or at least until he has to go to his meeting.   

“You are heavier than usual,” Frederick comments. 

Ben groans in contentment.  “That’s what happens when your wonderful boyfriend makes you a huge, incredible breakfast.  You’re fattening me up and I’m going to let you.”

“I am glad you are satisfied with your surprise,” Frederick says, one hand resting on his back and the other stroking his hair.  “I want to make sure I can provide for your human needs.”

“You’re really good at that,” Ben says, feeling his eyes droop half shut.  “If you get tired of the diplomatic life, you could probably open a restaurant instead.”

Frederick laughs a little, rumbling below him.  “I must do my duty, and for now that means diplomacy.”

“Mmph,” Ben says intelligently, brain fuzzy from food and the comfy Volm beneath him.  “So long as you still cook for me.”

“Yes, of course,” Frederick says.

* * *

 

A couple hours later, Frederick has gone to his meeting and Ben has managed to pull himself out of bed.  He grabs the tray and carries it down the hall, no longer feeling overwhelmingly full, but still full of happy warmth.  It’s not often they get lazy mornings alone together like this.

He’s smiling and elbows deep in dishes (he had no idea that cooking meant so many dishes) when Dad walks by.

“What’s with all the dishes?” Dad asks softly.  He always talks softly to him, even all these years later. 

Ben shrugs, still smiling.  “Big breakfast.”

Dad presses his lips together, like he’s conflicted about whatever he’s about to say.

There was a time when Ben would’ve carefully asked Dad what was up.  He would have pulled it out of him with the utmost care, and then said whatever to make sure Dad felt good.  Ben was always good at taking care of Dad, no matter the cost.

Now, he turns back to his dishes, humming happily.  There may be a lot of them, but it’s not a chore at all.  It’s all a reminder of how much Frederick cares for him- plus he got plenty of cuddling out of the deal. 

“You seem really happy these days.  Like, in a healthy way.  Like you’re getting better,” Dad says, still speaking softly.

Ben nods, still working at his dishes.  “I am.”

There are still problems, but it’s mostly true.  He’s definitely better than he ever had thought he could be.

“It’s really good to see,” Dad says.  “I’m really glad you’re happy now.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Ben says.

Dad makes a noise like he wants to say something else on the subject, but Ben just keeps cleaning the dishes. 

They make light chatter about their respective books.  A good, new normal.  One with bumps and anxiety, but big breakfasts, too.


End file.
